No Longer There and I Wouldn't Dare Ask Why
by dubleohsev
Summary: A comming of age story in Grace's POV... About her dad leaving and her not having the voice to ask why. Please read and review! One-shot.


AN: Okay here's the deal. This fic has nothing to do with RFR. I wrote it for a scholarship contest and wanted to see what you guys thought. Since we don't know of any character's fathers leaving their families on RFR i guess we can pretend this is Grace talking.

* * *

**No longer there. Do I ask why? I wouldn't dare. **

Growing up, my brother and I thought our lives were perfect. We had great parents who were in love with each other, they were always able to provide for us, and we had fun as a family. My dad coached our soccer teams and did the yard work, chaperoned fieldtrips and came to our side when we were sick; he was man of the house with a full time job on the side.

He was living the American Dream, and to me he was Superman- he had everything he ever wanted laid out in front of him, but as I grew into this idea of a great life, he grew out of it. It was as if he woke up one day stuck. His life no longer satisfied him: the big office job wasn't a good enough pay check, my mother drove him insane with her kindness, and he felt guilty enjoying the company and friendship of the son and daughter who adored him.

Countless times, I wondered if my actions triggered something inside him, but I have the start of it pinpointed to his twenty-year college reunion. I watched as he looked back at the yearbooks and photo albums: he would smile and share his memories but he wasn't talking to me. He zoned out, lost in times of yore. One thing I realized about my dad was that he thought his memories meant more than mine did; that with each new generation, something was lost. These yearbooks aided his realization that life ripped away his security blanket and left his past self bemused in the brisk actuality of the "real world". He revisited his former peers and chatted with the youthful attendees of his reunion and realized he wasn't who he wanted to be- he wasn't rich (how shallow) or working in the field he majored in. He wanted to be in advertising and he wanted to believe that life was easy, but more than anything, he wanted to be able to tell himself he was satisfied, happy or in love like he envisioned as a boy.

He was living a life that any man would be proud of, but this man, the one I had no choice but to claim, wanted out. He never told my mom he was unhappy, but I could see it in the way he functioned around her. He no longer let down his guard, he no longer told her what was on his mind, and what hurt the most is that he stopped coming to soccer games and parent conference nights at school. He no longer had our family's best interest at heart.

When my brother and I were younger, he would come home early to play Cops and Robbers or Cowboys and Indians, but now he didn't make it home until after my mom went to sleep. I always waited up for him, hoping he would offer to tutor me in math (we were always a good team). I sat on the couch watching The Late Show with David Letterman myriad nights, my math homework and notes spread across the living room floor, wondering if he had work that was more important or another woman on the side. The truth: nights he came home late were spent locked in his office trying to make himself want to go home. He desired to fit into the life he built for himself, and he longed not to hurt us anymore by not being there. Nearly three months had passed since the reunion and I could tell that more than anything he wanted to tell himself he was in love with his wife.

My dad was never the man to leave a project; he always finished what he started, but somehow, fixing his marriage slowly but surely slipped from the top of his list. My parents didn't argue and they didn't bicker so it was hard at first to notice anything was wrong. They got along just fine, but there was no longer any chemistry in their relationship; no more love left. He no longer picked her up to spin her around or leave work to bring her some lunch- in fact, I haven't seen them utter a word to each other in ages. They just passed each other with blank stares as I do when I pass the moody loner sitting on his porch when I run after school- it is just awkward.

So now, after months of trepidation, the news is finally hitting me like a knife impaled into my chest. As I gasp for breath, I know the battle is worthless, that nothing I do matters in this place between life and death- happiness and getting by. Strewn in front of me is the information I feared, the event I couldn't stop, and the disarray that will ultimately change the way our family functions, leaving me wondering, "Why?". I guess I have known the marriage was doomed all along (well, since his return from the reunion) but the truth hurt: my dad will be leaving and he won't be coming back. "I just can't do this anymore," he told me. I was always closer to my dad than I was my mom so I felt betrayed when he left me out of such a big decision, but it was his to make.

As I told myself to breathe, dared movement to take over, and wished secretly for tears- nothing came. I was frozen in time with nothing but a "Sorry" and a "Good bye". Contrary to popular belief, when love ones are lost, the world doesn't end- life goes on and I have to force myself to keep going. Time would not grant me the gift of standing still.

I pretend not to see the saddened eyes my mom now wears and I pretend not to hear when my little brother cries. I pretend not to notice when my mom avoids meeting my eyes and I pretend not to notice that the man I looked up to is gone- because life goes on.

* * *

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me what you think!


End file.
